Bad Blood
by Red Tale
Summary: A Halloween Story! Sixteen years ago mutagen transformed four ordinary baby turtles into part human mutants. But what if one of them wasn't an ordinary turtle to begin with? From Splinters POV. This is scarey, you all! Thou hath been warned.
1. Bad Blood

Bad Blood By Red Turtle  
  
Part I - Reflections  
  
The pinks and golds of the evening sky enhanced this rare moment in life, in which I sat down with my sons to a respectable meal of sushi outside, away from human life and danger. We were dining high up on a mountain, and tonight we would all sleep here, breathing in the fresh air and the dreams it would bring with it. Tomorrow we would arrive at the temple of my long time dear friend Akira, a friend I haven't seen since my exile to America and subsequent transformation into a rat. I can't wait for Akira's reaction, and to the ensuing discussion for what this meant to a Buddhist. Was this a form of reincarnation and was it higher or less than human? All kinds of questions.  
  
I am eternally grateful for this opportunity to visit Akira after so many years. Akira had arranged for me to come by whatever means he deemed best, and to bring my sons as well. I had traveled by ship, in the lowest class so that no one cared that we stayed covered and didn't talk to anyone. This one-week trip had actually been harder than years hiding in the sewers, for the whole time we did not dare relax, even in our own rooms, for fear of discovery.  
  
Once away from the ship it had gotten much easier, for me anyway. We traveled by Yak and Camel, across deserts and through mountains to reach here. I had deliberately taken as long a route as I could, for I wanted to imbued my sons with as much of Japan's experience as I could. And it was working. Tonight for the first time they had accepted the simple fish and rice meal with no cracks about the taste and no mention of soda, pizza, chips, or any of the other junk food they were accustomed too. And their behavior was markedly changed as well. They were calmer, quieter, observing their surrounding with sharper senses. Yes, this trip was definitely the best thing to ever happen to us.  
  
I allowed my thoughts to roam to when they were all younger. The last time they had been so quiet and peaceful was those brief moments (years?) of ten, eleven and twelve. All four had been quite serious youth back then, always respecting my wishes, eating as a family together, practicing with diligence, cleaning up after themselves, and most of all they didn't talk as much. Donatello least of all of course but even Michelangelo had been noticeable less.well noisy.  
  
They seemed to have a pattern for a while, if they started to get anxious or mad they would leave on their own accord, as far from the lair as allowed, and return a couple hours later quiet and relaxed again. Having been a young human boy at one point, I suspected this had something to do with their maturing into adolescents, and this theory was confirmed with their thirteenth birthday. I swear on all that is holy, as soon as they blew the candles out on that thirteenth birthday cake something happened to all of them. Suddenly Raph and Leo were always at each others throats, Michelangelo was either constantly talking, belching, farting or eating in the most obnoxious ways possible, and Donatello's quietness became loudest of all, as he would then go for days with out being heard or seen outside of ninjizu, and that got increasingly difficult to keep them all in. Any other education ended up being abandoned totally and I had to just hope that being able to read and basic math would get them through life.  
  
Teenagers. Sigh.  
  
Now they were sixteen year old, and maybe another change was happening to them. Maybe they would come out of this experience closure and more mature, which was all I could ask for.  
  
"How far away is Akira's temple, master?" Leonardo inquired. He was anxious to get there, he wanted to meet my friend and he truly wanted to see me happy.  
  
"It will be about three more hours travel."  
  
"Why don't we try to get there tonight them?" Raphael asked, a glint of his impulsiveness showing through in his eyes, but I actually loved that in him now that he had gone so many days with out swearing or fighting his brothers. I could really get to know him here, in a way that was impossible in the confines of the city.  
  
"Because we need to rest first. The climb will be very hard from here, and we have already done a fair amount of travel today. Besides, it is rude to arrive as a guest after midnight."  
  
I don't know whether that last part is an actual rule, but I thought it made a good deal of sense. I shouldn't want to wake Akira up.  
  
"Does he have a library at the temple?" Donatello asked.  
  
Here is another trait that, while annoying in the city, here I find it admirable. I detest Donatello's constant immersement in books and computers, something none of the others of us can begin to share with him, but now I smile fondly at the vision of him running to Akira's library and delving into the ancient books and parchments kept there. Besides, perhaps some religious orientated study would be good for him.  
  
"Yes, Donatello, he has a vast library, and there are some of the most rarest books kept there. You will learn a lot from him."  
  
Donatello's face lit up. I hardly ever see him happy, but then I don't see him much. Besides hiding himself, I find him the hardest of all of them to look at. Some reason, I always feel compelled to look away, and only with the strongest dedication can I ever meet his eyes. His eyes are different than the others, but they're not ugly by any means. They are only a few shades lighter, almost more of a yellow than a brown, but with green skin it goes rather well, I think. Still, even now I try to smile at him and instead find myself smiling at the ground. Oh well.  
  
"Do you think that he'll."?  
  
Michelangelo had started to ask me something, and based on how he trailed off he probably rethought the question and decided it was something not worthy of my attention. I haven't seen him try so hard to think through his comments since.well, since he turned thirteen. I assume the question was about food, and since he is trying so hard I am going to encourage him, rather than let him feel embarrassed or dumb.  
  
"He will prepare a feast for us when we arrive. I already sent him a letter describing what types of food you all like, and he will do his best to arrange it. I doubt there will be pizza, but he will probably have cheese, possibly chocolate and sweet things, and he may introduce you to new glutinous experiences you had not imagined existed before. Does that answer your question, my son?"  
  
"Yes master", he replied, positively beaming. Unlike with Donatello, I am able to smile back at him. I even try to turn a little bit back to Donatello, but suddenly find myself facing Leonardo instead.  
  
"Do we have anything for him?" Michelangelo then asks.  
  
Wow, thinking of others. Definitely an improvement in his personality.  
  
"Yes. I have brought him a gift, an expression of my gratitude for bringing us here."  
  
"It has been a good trip, hasn't it master?" Leo commented, already getting his sleeping area organized. The others begin to follow suit.  
  
"Yes, My sons, it has indeed." 


	2. Bad Blood II

Bad Blood Part II - My dearly departed friend. . .  
  
I awoke the next mourning very refreshed and so happy to be alive I literally thought I would float to the sky. All my other sons looked the same, except Donatello, what I could see of him. He had seemed well last night but some trouble had defiantly set in him during the night.  
  
"Is anything wrong, my son?" I asked gently as we rode together on a yak (We only had three so we had to share). I was conscious enough to ask him separate from his brothers, if he ever does open up its not around them.  
  
"Nothing. . . I just had a bad dream last night, sensei", He replied.  
  
"I am here if you would like to tell it", I offered.  
  
"No. I. . . don't."  
  
And that was all I got out of him the whole rest of the way.  
  
As described, I felt terrific waking up. The whole world seemed to be great, the yaks were beautiful animals, the food was fresh and tasty, and we exercised for an hour before leaving and further increased my energy. I wanted us all to show off before Akira. I know, I am a sensei, I am not vain, but it would be fun for him to see how well I have trained my mutant sons in this art.  
  
But the closure we got, the more a feeling of darkness and foreboding set in. Something was wrong, I couldn't get a fix on it, but my perception was such that I knew we would not arrive at this temple at a fortunate time. Perhaps they were under attack, something of that nature, in which case I wanted to hurry, although I did not want to tell my sons what I felt. It would be too hard to explain.  
  
But Donatello also grew increasingly antsy. He wouldn't say why. He finally dismounted the yak and walked to keep up, and ran most of the way, but stopped to stare at the temple as we came with sight of it. I have to say I didn't like how he was staring at it. Michelangelo even asked him why and he said something about appreciating the architecture, but there was something deeper going on. This further fed my own nervousness.  
  
At my insistence, we arrived at the temple doors in just under two hours, instead of the estimated three. My sons were a bit worn out, but a low level of adrenaline kept me alert and active.  
  
I knocked at the door. Although he was expecting me, I and my sons all wore cloaks, in case there were other visitors to the temple.  
  
I let a good five minutes pass in silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. There weren't even any birds, or fountains, or windchimes.  
  
I knocked again, my adrenaline increasing.  
  
After another few minutes, I prepared myself to break open the doors.  
  
"Who comes here?" a voice commanded from inside. It was a much younger voice than Akira would be, and something was wrong with the tone. . . it wasn't in the fashion of a guard protecting the temple. . . it was scared.  
  
"My name is Hamato Yoshi. I had arranged to visit Master Akira, a long friend of mine."  
  
A moment passed. Finally a cloaked figure opened the door, but did not allow us in. I saw two more cloaked figures behind it. Did they have something to do with this curse fallen upon the temple?  
  
"Yes, he did inform us of your pending visit. Unfortunately, I regret to inform you, sir, that Master Akira passed away last night. You understand we can not take in visitors at this time."  
  
He actually started to close the door! I shot my foot out just in time and braced it open with all my strength.  
  
"No, please, do not shut us out. Please, he was a dear friend and my sons and I have traveled far to see him. May I at least visit him one last time, and know the circumstances of his death?"  
  
The two figures in the back glanced at each other, and then turned to the one at the door.  
  
The one at the door looked us over, suspiciously. The look and fear indicated that Akira did not die by peaceful means. They had been attacked.  
  
"Perhaps we can help you?" I offered, "We are ninjas, and if anything unnatural caused Master Akira's death I would be honored to-"  
  
"We don't need help", He snapped back, but that fear was still there. He eyed me more intensely.  
  
"Your not human", he stated simply.  
  
"No I am not."  
  
"Master Akira did not tell us you were not human. He said he went to school with you."  
  
"Indeed he did. This transformation happened after I had last seen him, some fifteen years ago. My sons are also mutants."  
  
I removed my hood, and my sons did the same. The cloak figure clutched at the door, but what emotion he was showing was unclear. Then the two behind him started jumping up and down.  
  
"Hey! Turtles! Look, Turtles! Let them in, Darin! They're turtles like us!"  
  
And to my and probably more profoundly my sons' disbelief, they all removed their hoods and revealed themselves to be mutant turtles as well.  
  
"Akira did not tell me he lived with mutants turtles", I gasped.  
  
"He probably didn't tell you he was a mutant cat, did he?"  
  
My jaw must have hit the ground. Akira, a mutant cat? And me ending up a rat? Both of us with Mutant turtle sons? Oh, how funny! Or it would be, if only I could have actually talked to him, seen his face when he saw me, seen our children when they saw each other. . .  
  
After a brief consultation, the one at the door let us all into the room. Him and the other two bowed before us.  
  
"Forgive us if we were rude, you see we couldn't let humans visit his body, with him being a cat, and if they found out about us, well. . ."  
  
I nodded that I understood. My sons were almost in shock, staring at these youth before them. Probably wishing one was a sister.  
  
"That is understandable. And we haven't been formally introduced. I am called Splinter now, and these are my sons, Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, and Donatello."  
  
"My name is Darin. These two are Jordan and Torrance. We are sons of Akira, he adapted us and we have, we had lived with him. . ."  
  
He didn't finish, and instead straightened himself. I could see he was bracing himself to not cry.  
  
"He was murdered", one of the two, announced.  
  
"We're not at liberty to discuss it", Darin snapped.  
  
"Yes we are, they're turtles. And he's Akira's friend. They're like cousins", the two (I can't tell which was meant to be Jordan and which Torrance) interrupted.  
  
"Do you know by who?" I inquired.  
  
"No", one of the two replied.  
  
"We're not at liberty to discus that either", Darin stated. He was taking this very seriously.  
  
"Do you need help?" Leonardo inquired.  
  
"Yes", the two replied before Darin could. Obviously there was still some confusion on how to handle this sudden death and the circumstances surrounding it. A pang of sympathy ran threw me. Poor children.  
  
"We are ninjas", Raphael repeated my earlier claim.  
  
"But this is sort of a private matter. Your not Buddhists", Darin replied, but he didn't seem dead set on it.  
  
"Please allow me to visit his body, and perhaps I can gain insight there. As his friend, I should avenge him, and I can't let you three be. . . destroyed by this event."  
  
"There's actually six of us", Darin announced, "Why don't you follow us, I'll take you to him, and after you. . . visit you can help us plan what we should do."  
  
"Very well", I agreed. 


	3. Bad Blood III

Bad Blood Part III - and the plot gets twisted. . .  
  
We followed Akira's children down some hallways and past several rooms before entering the one at the end. The sadness here was so prevalent it hit me when I crossed the threshold; before I saw the other three turtle children knelt besides Akira's bed. And what do you know; one of them was a girl. Perhaps something positive will come out of all of this after all.  
  
One of them rose to greet us. The other two stayed focused on the cat-form of Akira. I found myself staring; it was so odd that he did indeed seem to be the Akira I knew, even in such a different form. The contortions of his body told me how violent his death was; yet I saw no blood or indication of any wounds. Poison, perhaps.  
  
"My name is Necromancer. I am a son of Akira. You must be his friend, Hamato Yoshi. I am sorry that your visit has ended this way. I know how much you meant to each other."  
  
He took note of the fact that we were not human, but he didn't seem particularly surprised. Perhaps because he has so much on his mind. This one had the air of being the oldest, most responsible son, although he appeared to be the same age as the others.  
  
"Yes, Thank you", I acknowledged.  
  
I knelt with the other two; both with long black hair that looked strange on a turtle, and silently paid my respects to my dear friend Akira. I cleared my mind and tried to find some residual energy to guide me in what happened, and what to do. Nothing came to me, so after a minute I gave my last good-bye and stood up again.  
  
"Can you tell me how did he die?" I inquired.  
  
"We do not know", Necromancer, replied, "I found him already passed on in the middle of the night. I suspect poison. One of us was awakened by something in the temple."  
  
At this revelation the longhaired boy released a sob and collapsed on his sister, who carefully comforted him. Necromancer watched briefly, as if waiting for something more to happen, then turned back to me.  
  
"Well, Donatello could figure that out, right?" Raphael offered, sort of too loudly for the tenseness of the situation.  
  
"I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced at all", Necromancer said, finally taking in my sons' presence, "Normally I would be quite ecstatic to meet other members of our species here. We should at least know your names."  
  
"Forgive me", I apologized immediately, "These are my sons, Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, and Michelangelo. I did not tell Akira of them, I was intending it to be a pleasant surprise."  
  
"It would seem there was much you two kept from each other", Darin observed, "These two are my sister Molly and my brother Simon."  
  
The two looked up to formally acknowledge our existence. It was evident that Akira's death impacted most on them, they were red-eyed and puffy from crying, their hair hung in long ratty strands and they clung to each other as if one might drown with out the other. I wondered what their bond had been, that it was affecting them this way when the others, while marked by grief, were at least functional.  
  
Molly barely glanced at my sons, just a nod to them and me, and she turned back to Akira's body.  
  
But Simon. He looked up at me, then at my sons, and a flash of recognition shown in his eyes so quick you had to be a ninja master like me to see it. And not happy recognition. Not 'oh, these guys are turtles like me' recognition. It was recognition of horror. And it wasn't directed at all of them. It was directed at Donatello.  
  
I saw this in about one second, not enough time for me to realize that he had leaped up and charged Donatello with a knife. It was so fast I only knew what happened afterwards. With his brothers and myself delayed by grief, this young turtle I had never seen before almost had Donatello's throat slit open. Donatello had anticipated the move, he had drawn his bo out before Simon could get to him and successfully parried him off. He had to block him twice before Necromancer and Darin finally snapped free of shock and pinned the attacker against the wall.  
  
"Simon stand down!" Necromancer ordered, still pinning him while Darin pried the knife from his hands.  
  
"He killed him! He killed Akira! We have to-"  
  
"Simon, stand down!", Necromancer repeated.  
  
The rest of us watched, breathing heavily although nothing physical had happened to us. Donatello stepped back cautiously, bo still drawn and ready.  
  
"No! Let me go! Get him-"  
  
"Simon, stand down. Now."  
  
"You don't understand!" Simon wailed, trying vigorously to break free of his brother's grip. "No, of course we don't, Simon. You won't tell us what you know. You attack guests in our home-"  
  
"He's not a guest! He's not a guest! We're a sacred temple!"  
  
Simon gave a renewed struggle and almost got away from Necromancer, so close that Donatello backed up, Leonardo and Raphael moved protectively in front of him, and the twin brothers provided another barrier between them. My heart ached for what this young turtle must have seen, his soul was convinced Donatello had somehow killed Akira. And, looking at Donatello, or not quite looking at him, I found myself needing to know what had happened.  
  
"You can't kill guests in a sacred temple!" Necromancer yelled, fighting Simon to the ground and restraining him there, "You can't attack Hamato Yoshi's sons. Now stand down!"  
  
At the end of this fight Simon finally stayed on the floor. Necromancer and Darin guarded him but the others relinquished their defense and stood along the wall, shooting curious glances at Donatello.  
  
When no one said anything for a minute, I decided to try to coax what must be a powerful story out of Simon.  
  
"Please tell us what led you to attack my son."  
  
I hope that didn't sound too harsh. I was searching for a statement that would let Simon and the others know I was genuinely in need of the knowledge, what ever it was, and this was the best I could do.  
  
Simon looked at me, as if judging my character, but I must not have passed the test. He didn't say anything.  
  
"I'm sorry about what happened to Master Akira, but Donatello couldn't have been the one to kill him", Leonardo said finally.  
  
"He was with us", Michelangelo continued, taking up his brother's defense, "We slept outside last night, on the way here. We camped hours away. So, he couldn't have had anything to do with it."  
  
"I wasn't here", Donatello agreed, but. . . he sounded unsure of himself. And he spoke so quietly I barely heard him. He's probably very shaken from the attack. He put his bo down, leaned against the wall and rested his arms over his knees.  
  
Donatello's speaking brought the fire back into Simon's eyes. Maybe that's why he was so quite, he didn't want to enrage him again.  
  
"You lie. You murder and you lie."  
  
"Simon!" Necromancer yelled, then, thinking better of it, quieted himself, but still spoke sternly, "Simon, you have to tell us what happened last night. What did it have to do with him?"  
  
There was another moment of silence as we all stared at Simon, waiting for this story. Twice Simon seemed about to speak and then couldn't.  
  
"I wasn't here", Donatello repeated, a little louder than before, "I had a dream about this place, and about you. But it didn't really happen."  
  
Now it was everyone's turn to stare at Donatello. Including myself.  
  
"You dreamt of Akira's death?" I clarified.  
  
"Yes", he replied, looking down.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me of this?"  
  
"I didn't know it was Akira. I didn't know them. And it was a dream, sensei. It didn't really happen."  
  
"Something did really happened here", Darin replied, "Why don't you tell us what your dream was?"  
  
Both the subject and the attention were getting to Donatello, as he tried to explain his version of the events.  
  
"I was in this big room. I-I saw something in the room with me, it was this creature, a snake or a chicken or something, I don't know. It was there in the room, and then he came in (Donatello indicated Simon with a slight point) and I, it. . . it attacked him. And then Akira came in and stopped it, and it killed him. And that was the end of the dream."  
  
"How did it kill Akira?" Necromancer wanted to know, and so did I.  
  
"I don't know", Donatello answered after a long pause.  
  
"But you saw it", Darin pointed out.  
  
"It doesn't matter, it was a dream", Donatello answered, a little harshly.  
  
"It stared him to death. It killed him through his eyes. And it was you." Simon revealed, having gained his ability to speak.  
  
The two locked eyes for a second, but as determined as Simon was, he couldn't hold the stare. He looked down.  
  
"Let me get this straight", Necromancer interrupted, taking control of the situation before I did, "Simon, last night you had a dream in which he came into the temple, almost killed you, Master Akira saved you, and he killed Master Akira."  
  
Simon nodded.  
  
"And you, Donatello, even though you didn't know any of us or what we looked like or where we lived, you had the same dream, but from the enemy point of view."  
  
Donatello seemed about to argue something, but instead nodded.  
  
"And while you two share this dream, something actually does kill Master Akira. We can't ask him for his version, but we can see the result here, and it matches the dream, doesn't it?"  
  
A few nods.  
  
"Did any one else have any dreams like that last night?" he asked, almost sarcastically but I think he was really trying to get at the truth.  
  
No one had.  
  
"Have you ever had dreams like this before?" Necromancer asked of Donatello.  
  
"No, of course not", Donatello replied, shifting uncomfortably from his position on the floor.  
  
"Hey, he's not on trail here", Raphael protested.  
  
Akira's children and my children seemed to separate a little further; they pressed closure to Akira's body, and mine closure to me. Donatello stood up and drew his bo again, eyeing Simon closely. Simon had gotten up as well, but as yet was still guarded by his two brothers.  
  
"Master Splinter, have you paid your respects to our master Akira?" Necromancer asked me.  
  
"Yes, I have", I told him.  
  
"Then, with all due respect, I must ask you to please leave our temple."  
  
"And take your sons with you", one of Jordan or Torrance pair added.  
  
"That wasn't respectful", Leonardo pointed out.  
  
He was about to say something more, but I interrupted him.  
  
"No, Leonardo, given the circumstances I agree. We should leave this place."  
  
"Murderer", Simon hissed threateningly as we started to leave.  
  
"It was a dream. I didn't kill him", Donatello said, but with out much conviction.  
  
"Then what are you doing with those eyes?" Simon asked.  
  
That was not a question I wanted to hear. Donatello's dream connection to this murder was already unsettling; I didn't need to think about his eyes. I didn't need to know that that was how Simon recognized him.  
  
"Leave him alone", Raphael growled, brandishing his sais.  
  
This act spurred the Akira's children to draw their own weapons, and now instead of leaving my sons had drawn theirs.  
  
"Come my sons, let us end this as peacefully as we can. Akira would have wanted it that way", I added, hoping that would ease things. And its true, Akira would never want our families at war over anything.  
  
"I don't think he would have wanted your son to get away with murdering him."  
  
"We are leaving your temple", I announced steadily, "No more blood shall be drawn here."  
  
I got between the two groups, and encouraged my sons to begin walking towards the hall, but they wouldn't turn their backs on the others.  
  
"Maybe more blood should be drawn here", Darin said.  
  
Everyone stopped. I prayed, whatever God there was, let this end peacefully.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Leonardo asked. As disciplined as he was, he would never let a challenge like that slide.  
  
"If he had anything, anything to do with Akira's death", Darin said, but didn't finish.  
  
"Donatello was with us last night!" Raphael growled, "He didn't kill him, he just had a dream!"  
  
"Maybe he should have a dream about your Master", Necromancer retaliated. Oh, I didn't appreciate that. And neither did my sons. The inevitable clash ensued. As the only adult present, I tried valiantly to non- violently restrain some of them, to put a sense of reason back in this, to get control of the situation, to get everyone out of this alive. But soon I gave up. Our children, Akira's and Mine, both had too much heart in this battle, both had serious reasons to fight, and I was helpless before those convictions, that of avenging their father and that of protecting their brother. So instead I tried to knock some of them out, hoping to be able to incapacitate enough to stop the fighting.  
  
I took down Jordan and Torrance, and then I took down Raphael before he stabbed Darin to death (as it was, he got in one good stab in his leg). But so much was happening at once, and I could not be everywhere. I pulled Leonardo away from Simon, thinking that of all of them he was the most reasonable, and if I got him back on my side of stopping this madness he could help control the rest. In retrospect, the better tactic would have been for me to protect Donatello, and gotten him out of there. That would have diffused the situation.  
  
While I tried to gain Leonardo's alliance, in the space of thirty seconds or less, Simon made a bee line for Donatello, intent on killing him. Michelangelo was fending off Molly, but was able to intercept Simon and take them both on. It was Necromancer who was able to get to Donatello, and despite lacking Donatello's ninjitzu training; Necromancer had him disarmed before I could blink. Donatello surrendered, raised his arms, and Necromancer took his knife and placed it at his neck.  
  
"NO!" Leonardo and I cried at once. I immediately released Leonardo. I didn't care what happened to Akira's children now, so help me; I was willing to have them all die as long as I didn't loose my own son.  
  
"I'm sorry but I must do this", Necromancer said, whether to us, to Donatello, or to himself I'm not sure. But the time it took for him to say this cost him his life, and destroyed ours.  
  
He had pulled his knife back, readied the maneuver that would take about three seconds to slit Donatello's throat, less time than any of us had to stop it.  
  
And then he died. Necromancer, not Donatello.  
  
Right in front of us.  
  
I didn't even have to check. I didn't know what I saw exactly, but death had been a key part of it. Michelangelo must have caught sight of what had happened, he stood still, as did Molly and Simon.  
  
"Donatello. . . what did you do?" Leonardo whispered, all the righteous conviction of defending his helpless brother washed out of him.  
  
"He was going to kill me", Donatello replied, looking down again. I thought I caught a hint of a glow in his eyes, but it was hard to tell.  
  
"Yes, but he was going to use a knife. What did you do?" Leonardo asked again slowly.  
  
Molly and Simon suddenly broke from their positions with Michelangelo, and grabbed Donatello rather violently. They both kept their eyes tightly shut as they did this. But Michelangelo had been able to remove their weapons, and so they had no way to kill him.  
  
If he can be killed.  
  
"You believe me now?" Simon demanded of us.  
  
"That doesn't mean. . . Donatello, what did you do?" Leonardo asked again.  
  
So far Michelangelo, the one I haven't been able to get to shut up for years, hadn't said a word. I wished he would weigh in on this situation, especially if he could find something so witty as to make us all laugh and realize what fools we've been. All this fuss over Donatello, the quietest one of the group, the one you barely knew was there.  
  
The one that was always disappearing and hiding. The one that never, ever, made eye contact with you. Not even when he was a baby. He didn't learn to talk until he was old enough to mimic the TV, because neither his brothers nor myself could look at him long enough to teach him. And the rats, all the dead rats, I thought the city had laid some new poison down or something, but maybe. .. . And dear god the sanitation worker. It had been nothing, almost; a sanitation worker dying of a heart attack in the sewers last year. . . but maybe it was something.  
  
Loosing yourself in thought is very dangerous in battle. So is being in shock, which was what Michelangelo and Leonardo were in. This then allowed Darin to recover, on his wounded leg, and run out another door to the side. Leonardo and Michelangelo saw him leave, but did nothing to chase him. Neither did I. But it did shake me from my revelry.  
  
"Simon, Molly, I appreciate. . . I must ask you to let Donatello go. We will leave here, no more of you will die, and-"  
  
"No deal", Simon replied, still with his closed eyes.  
  
"If you have any sense of honor", Molly says, "You'll understand. You can't let him go."  
  
Donatello struggled weakly against them, but they each had one arm and one leg, and Molly also had her hands on his throat although she wasn't strong enough to choke him. He looked very unhappy. So unhappy my heart ached. What ever was going on, it wasn't his fault. He wasn't deliberately going around killing people. I couldn't let them kill him, and I'm sure Leonardo and Michelangelo couldn't either (nor Raphael, when he wakes up.)  
  
I advanced on the Akira's two children.  
  
"Let him go, or I will pry your eyes open", I threatened. I didn't want to do that, but I was banking on them being scared.  
  
"Master", Michelangelo exclaimed.  
  
"Let him do what he needs to do, Mike", Leonardo ordered.  
  
"But-"  
  
Suddenly the twins, the ones I had forgotten all about, burst back onto the scene, having not only regained consciousness but also their weapons. The jumped on Michelangelo and killed him. Leonardo instantly jumped on them, and the fighting started all over again.  
  
Already we had lost two lives, and it seemed inevitable that more were to follow. I grabbed Molly and tried to pull her off of Donatello, finally succeeding so he was able to fully fight Simon. And fight Simon he did, but not in the fashion I had trained him. Soon Simon was another victim on the floor.  
  
"Donatello, get out of here! Run!" I ordered, because I didn't want him to kill any more of them.  
  
Donatello turned towards the door, fully intent on running, when Darin appeared again. Darin quickly fell to Donatello's spell, but not before a loud gun shot rang out.  
  
I saw a bullet hole in Donatello's chest, but either it missed all his vital organs or he really was invincible. He jumped over Darin's body and kept running.  
  
Which was when Molly almost got the best of me. She performed a very powerful kick to my neck, enough to bring me down and I couldn't breath for a few seconds.  
  
Raphael must have woken up and seen this, and with all the death surrounding him by now assumed she had killed me. So he avenged me.  
  
"Thank you, my son", I choked.  
  
I wanted to add something about how maybe he shouldn't have killed the only turtle female in known existence.  
  
"Sensei, your alive!"  
  
I nodded.  
  
But as Raphael was affirming my living he died at the hands of one of the twins. Looking over I discovered that Leonardo and the other twin were dead. Quite definitely. The remaining twin had taken Leonardo's katanas to use on Raphael, and now he faced me.  
  
What could I do? Akira's last remaining child had to die at my hands. 


	4. Bad Blood IV

Bad Blood Part IV - the last one standing. . .  
  
I stood a moment in the room. To think such carnage could happen in a temple like this. The room was so cursed that I couldn't even perform a blessing for my sons. It was best to leave, and to try to forget this had happened.  
  
After all this, I had been hoping to still have Donatello, since he had walked out of the room alive, but the trail of blood leading to the doors didn't bode well for him.  
  
Was the whole turtle species to become extinct today?  
  
I eventually found him outside, by a tree. The bullet hole was real, and bleeding profusely. He was not some invincible monster; he was just a turtle, a teenage mutant ninja turtle, nothing more.  
  
"Donatello, lie down, I can help you", I told him, as I began tearing off cloth.  
  
"I think they used a silver bullet", he gasped.  
  
"I can't imagine what other kind of bullets a temple would keep", I sighed. It was reasonable for a temple to have protection against vampires and the like.  
  
"Do silver bullets kill Basilisks?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know", I answered, not really paying attention to what he had said as I applied pressure to his wound, "That is the kind of thing you would study, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, but I never found anything about silver. Apparently a rooster can kill me though. If it crows. Maybe not. I'm not really a basilisk."  
  
"Of course not", I affirmed.  
  
"I'm only part, I mean. I looked like a normal turtle, right? So I must just be part, like a forth, or an eighth."  
  
"What makes you think you're a basilisk?" I asked. Even though he was defiantly different, it sounded like he was being a little kid, pretending to be something.  
  
"The eyes. There's something in my eyes. And I have killed with them. Never in a dream. . . but I have. And Master. . .?"  
  
"Yes my son?"  
  
"I like doing it. When I do it, it sort of heals me, makes me stronger. I think this bullet would have killed me if I hadn't taken their lives first."  
  
"It might have", I agreed. It might yet, his bleeding wasn't stopping and he was getting paler and weaker.  
  
"Master, I don't think this is working", he finally said, much to my distress.  
  
"No, Donatello, you'll live", I assured him.  
  
"I know I will", he replied.  
  
And then he looked me in the eyes.  
  
"Sorry sensei."  
  
The End  
  
A/N: I am so sorry if I upset any of you. I did try to have a fair warning. Parts of this story have been in my head for a long time, and they suddenly started coming out. So I began to write, originally I wasn't sure how to end it so I just kept writing, and before I knew it, it was three in the mourning and everyone was dead. Oh Well. 


End file.
